I whirled on him. “Do not say his name. He is dead. It is over.”
“But Arthur must be told. Do you wish to tell him yourself what happened, or shall I relay it? Which would be easier for you?”
I stopped. “Why need he know? Is it not bad enough that one of us is haunted by the memories? Why should I so burden him?” I didn’t want to tell him anything, say anything. If I voiced my experiences, there would be no denying them. They would be real and irrefutable. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t.
“You need to tell someone. You’ll never be free until you do. I swear on all the gods and the Lady of the Lake who raised me that I will repeat what you tell me only to the king.”
I fought him for a while, but eventually, as the sky grew lighter and the sun traversed the sky behind a bank of darken
